Saving Grace
by sihlvyr
Summary: When the Dynasty returns with a new set of Warlords and Ladies, The Ronin Warriors find themselves in a race
1. Default Chapter

Title: Saving Grace   
Author: Sihlvyr   
Rating: PG:13 for language, violence   
Warnings: YAOI   
Feedback: Please!   
Disclaimer: The Ronin Warriors and associated parties are not mine, as much as I would prefer otherwise. However, Demi's world, plot, and characters are MINE!   
Summary: When the Dynasty returns with a new set of Warlords and Ladies, The Ronin Warriors find themselves in a race against time, trying to save one of their own, and master the hidden power that lies within their armors.   
Author's Note: Hmm. . . my brother posted already, so I figured I'd better get my ass in gear. . . this was just something I spun up one day, bored, and rather angsty. . . and this is unbetad. if anyone is willing to beta for me, please e-mail me at sihlvyr@hotmail.com   


Prologue: Alone 

He couldn't remember the starlight. He had been down here, for such a long time, alone, that he didn't remember much of anything about the outside world. It was a blur of broken glass and broken, wasted time. There had never been a point to saving the world. He didn't remember much of that, only the aching feeling in his gut when they had lost /him/ in winning. It was funny, as time went by, he forgot the good things, but he could recall the bad with astounding clarity. He recalled every exquisite detail of every pain, of every feeling of guilt and sorrow. It was his world, now. He didn't know anything better. 

He laughed softly, the sound broken and dry in the stale air. Something wet tickled hit lips, and he blinked, trying to pierce through the darkness to see what if was. Certainly not tears. Perhaps his lungs were bleeding again. But he didn't feel any pain from it. He didn't feel anything, not anymore. His body was numb with cold and blood loss. He should have been dead. It was the Universe's idea of a cruel joke that he was still alive. 

"But then, no one ever gave a rat's ass about wether I wanted to do something or not," he spoke aloud, using his own voice in a fruitless attempt to remain sane. But there was only so long that could work, and he had a strange feeling that he'd been down here a long time. "Hell, maybe I've already cracked, and I'm just imagining this. Fuck, maybe none of this is real." 

At first there had been visitors, those who came to question him, to hurt him. But as the good drained away from his mind, the visits became less frequent. They used to come every time he counted to 604 800. That was, what, once every week or so? But he didn't count anymore. It was hopeless. 

He moved his hand slightly, or thought he did. He was too numb to know. He couldn't see anything, he couldn't hear anything, he couldn't feel anything, he couldn't smell anything, he couldn't taste anything. That was sensory deprivation, right? An effective way of torture. It broke most people in hours. 

Still, it was awfully effective. His thoughts seemed loud against the perfect quiet. He wondered if he would hear the rustle of air if someone spirited into there. He thought so. What if he was deaf, though? He wouldn't be able to hear, would he? Yes, that's what 'deaf' meant. Sometimes, it took a moment before him mind could think of a meaning. Or a reason to think of a meaning. 

Starlight. He didn't have his starlight, not anymore. And where was his night breeze, his winter frost, his cool wind? He didn't have them anymore. They had left him. Only a thread remained. A thread of cool blue. 

It was strange, he wanted the cold so much, but he was frozen, here. This wasn't his cold. This was a dead, stale cold that pulled him apart at the seams. A cold that served no purpose other than to bind him to this desolate place, wherever it was. To bind him to this underground place, his mind screaming for a way out while his soul died, piece by piece. 

Even his mental 'sight' had died, leaving him. Everything had left him, he was alone. He remembered, or at least thought he did, that when he had first been trapped, he had hope. He had been sure, positive, someone would come through for him, to save him. He no longer remembered whom. Whomever it was had been a good memory. He no longer remembered anything good. He remembered despair. 

Was his memory being forcibly taken from him, or was it some protective measure from his brain, however wrong? Did his brain think that remembering the good things would harm him more? He didn't think that was correct. He didn't think it was being taken from him by force, either. He thought that it was just slipping away, as his stars slipped away. 

Even his memory didn't want a failure like him around. It was pathetic. His own mind hated him, rebelled against him. 

It must have gotten colder, because he could feel his skin turning to ice as he lay shackled on the ground. But he didn't really care, not anymore. There was nothing to care about. All he was waiting for was death. 


	2. Confusion

Chapter One: Confusion 

"Dammit, where could he be?" Ryou screamed, throwing down the map he held. "Its been five months, for crying out loud! Dammit, where the hell did he go? To Pluto?" a soothing hand touched his shoulder, but he threw it off, tears pricking his eyes. 

"God dammit, I never should have suggested we split up. I just didn't think. . . I mean, how much trouble could we get into in a month? Nothing we couldn't handle, right?" 

Seiji stared lethargically out the window. "Stop it, Ryou. We'll never find him if we don't think rationally." 

"You'll never find him, period," a low, female voice came from behind them. 

Two of the young men twisted around to see the booth behind them, while the other two half stood, anger on their faces. 

"What do you mean, we'll never find him? And how the fuck do you know we're looking for someone?" Ryou demanded, fingers pressing into the plether-cushioned seat. 

The speaker just smiled, her long dark hair twisted artfully around one slim finger. "Exactly what it sounded like, Wildfire. You will never find him. Even if you do, you're three, no four months too late. He started going insane one month into his. . . stay." 

Ryou grabbed the fur collar of the woman's coat, pulling her across her table and up against the opposite seat. "What did you say?" he hissed, his eyes slitting dangerously. 

The woman winced at his grip, her brown eyes widening. "You won't. . . get away with this. . . mongrel! I am a lady, and this will not be tolerated. I spoke the truth about your friend, and I am doubly glad that he is in the pathetic state he's in. It not for the fact that /He/ said to forgive your etiquette breaches, I'd have you thrown out!" the woman pulled herself out of Ryou's grip, the fur collar ripping as the two separated. "Take this. It an update on your friend's. . . condition, if you will. And be warned, Wildfire, take heed of all the details, because you will be next," she turned on her heel, spinning away from the four warriors as she tossed a CD at them. Her dramatic departure was ruined, however, by a tall, black haired man, whom she bumped into. 

Ryou was almost too busy staring at the CD to notice their angry conversation, but he was not so worried about what she had given him as not to check any helpful hints towards his friend's location. 

"Lacey," the man said sternly, his green eyes boring into hers. "You have not done as asked. If you continue this insubordinate behavior, I will be forced to relinquish you as my pupil," his tone made it clear that he had no problem in doing so, if fact the man sounded as though he was rather looking forward to getting rid of the brown haired girl. 

"You wouldn't /dare/!" the woman said furiously. 

The man arched an eyebrow. "Try me. You are not yet one of /His/ generals, Lacey, you are only a page. You do as I tell you, and as /He/ tells you, or you will be removed. Your social standing is of no matter. Now I will have to save this mistake you created in your rage. You are too proud, Lacey. I suggest you to remedy this unfortunate character flaw immediately. You may have been spoiled by your father, but you are in /His/ army now, and no such royal treatment is given without just cause. Go outside and wait with Lady Vivian." 

"No, you can't!" Lacey moan, clasping her white hands in front of her. "Please, m'Lord, anything but-" 

"That was an order, Lacey." 

Lacey fled out the door, tears steaming down her cheeks as the crowded diner parted for her. Ryou was not sorry to see he go. She deserved the tongue lashing she had just received. 

The man slowly came over to their table, and as he approached, Ryou studied him. He was not made of fine ivory and glass, as Lacey had been, but a tougher material. His stance spoke of his training in the martial arts, and the confidence he walked with showed just how secure he was in his training. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but Ryou couldn't place just what. He had never seen the man before, so how did he /know/ him? It was like there was a strange, tantalizing link between him and Ryou, but Ryou couldn't place it for the life of him. 

"I'm sorry for my subordinate's caustic behavior, Troopers," the man said smoothly. They all looked at him blankly, feigning ignorance, but the questions poured through their link without pause. 

~How does he know about that?~ 

~He doesn't feel right, you guys.~ 

~I almost recognize him, Ryou. Not quite, but almost.~ 

~I know. I get this strange feeling when I see him that we've met before, but I think I'd remember.~ 

"Are you done conversing?" the man asked, arching his brow. They froze, staring at him. 

"Who are you? Who do you work for? And what does any of this have to do with-" Ryou started. 

The man finished for him. "Finding your friend? Well, those are questions I can reply to. My name is Kanyon, Commanding General of /His/ army. I work for /Him/. And you see, we were sent here to give you an update on your friend's condition. We were sent to answer any question you might have that were not covered by the CD. Amazing technology, don't you think?" 

"How do you know about his condition?" Shuu asked, frustrated. 

"My dear Trooper, isn't it obvious? We are the ones who captured him, and the ones who hold him. Now, is there anything else?" 

The CD in Ryou's hand started to bend dangerously. "Why the hell should we believe you? You could have put anything on this CD." 

Kanyon smiled grimly. "Yes, that is true. Here," he pushed what appeared to be a miniaturized laptop in front of Ryou. 

Ryou obligingly placed the CD in the notebook computer, although it more resembled a postIt computer. It wasn't large enough to be a palm-top. The screen lit up, and a picture appeared. It was blurry, and then focused. A voice over then was heard, quietly. 

"'Third week, the Trooper is not reacting to stimulus. It has been recommended to the Master for a sensory deprivation time, but he has yet to respond." The voice came. It wasn't Kanyon's voice, it wasn't Lacey's voice, it was a female voice, calm, in control. The scene, however, was not. 

He was there, chained, bound hand and foot, resting against the wall, his head bent against his chest. His shackled arms were above his head, and the skin on them was a sickening blue. Only his breath showed he was alive, the freezing air meeting his warm breath and creating a fog. His shirt was ripped and torn, blood seeped out from a wound on his side. He was bleeding, he was still alive. His jeans were mud streaked and bloody, rent and shredded. 

"Seventh week, sensory deprivation has been approved for the Trooper. Attempts have been made to contact his friends, all have failed. It has been debated in meetings between myself, Lord Kanyon, Lady Kita, Lady Whyne, and Lord Zel to send one of us to find the four remaining Troopers. Lord Kanyon and myself believe we stand the best chance of finding these four, given the circumstances, but Lacey, Kanyon's pupil, would make this feat difficult. The other three generals agree, but no decision has been made to set forth to the Master." 

"The Trooper still appears sane, which we attribute to his armor, although we do not know if this is true. He still has not broken, and interesting feat for someone in his position and condition." 

He looked even worse, every inch of his skin blue, and his bones almost sticking out of his skin. He was dirty, and his greasy hair fell about his shoulders limply. His breathing was harsh and shallow, and he raised his head up slightly, so they could see his face. Ryou felt his stomach wretch. He should have only looked to be in his twenties, like the rest of them, but with his blue tinged lips and frost shaded, too tight skin, he appeared much older. His unfocused eyes were dull, filled with despair, and he didn't seem to really care if he ever left the rock chamber he was in. 

"Eleventh week. No real changes. We are still in debate about what to do about his friends." 

The voice said no changes, but he looked even worse, his head leaning against the wall, as though trying to cool a fever. His eyes were bloodshot, and were huge compared to the rest of his battered appearance. Frost covered the walls, and caked his body. He was obviously sick, and he didn't look like he could survive another minute, much less the nine more weeks he'd been there. 

"Fifteenth week. The subject has, against all odds, retained his sanity, as far as we can tell. We suspect he has broken, but the Master has ordered us only to observe." 

"Nineteenth week. We approached the Master with our plan, and it has been decided that myself and Lord Kanyon, accompanied by Lacey, will search out the remaining Troopers. The subject has not changed much, he appears to awaken from some type of slumber every five days or so. This may be his armors way of keeping his sane, and keeping him from death. The results of the first five months will be compared to the last test." 

The picture of Touma, of which little had changed, froze, and disappeared. Kanyon picked up the postIt computer, popping out the CD, and handing it to the Troopers. His green eyes rested lightly on each of the four, and suddenly it clicked. Ryou knew who he looked like, except for the black hair, and a darker skin tone. He even felt like him. 

"Sh'ten!" he spat the name out, anger in his blue eyes. "That's who you are. I thought you were on our side?" 

There was a startled exclamation from the rest of the table, and then a muttering of agreement. 

Kanyon smiled. "Close, but not quite. As you can see, your friend is very much sane, from what we can tell. Perhaps he isn't, though. We were just to reassure you that he was alive, so I'll be going now. Was there anything else?" the dark haired man gave a slight, startled cry when Ryou grabbed his shoulders, swearing in both English and Japanese, and slammed him against the table. 

"You sonofabitch. Where the hell is he, bastard!?" Ryou screamed, ignoring the other patrons who looked over at them to see what was going on. "Answer me, dammit! Who the fuck are you, and where the hell is Touma! Don't play fucking mind games with me, you bastard! Who the fuck else have you friggin' done that to, to be able to fuckin' compare some dammed results. You friggin' bastard!" 

The restaurant manager came over, trying to break them up, but Ryou's body temperature was rising, as was the temperature in the restaurant. He could only see red, and when he felt the manager trying to pull he away from Kanyon, he screamed and went into sub armor, setting the table next to them on fire. 

He glared down into Kanyon's frightened/amused/angry/annoyed eyes. "Answer me." 

"Don't. . . anger. . . me!" Kanyon hissed out, his eyes slitting. 

"Oh, I'm not afraid. I am Ryou of Wildfire, and will not be frightened by a sonofabitch like you. Now, tell me, where is he?" 

"Kanyon!" a cry came over the crackling blaze. "Kanyon, get away from him! Wildfire is dangerous when angry! He doesn't always need five armors to use the Inferno! He once used it with only Strata!" 

The green eyes beneath his widened. "Shit!" 

Suddenly, Ryou found himself pushed into Seiji, as a slim woman pulled Kanyon off the table. She grabbed the green eyed man's hand, and pulled him out of the burning building. Ryou stared after them, fury on his face, his power growing with the flames, and tore out of the building after them. His three friends followed, murder written clearly on their faces. 

He saw Kanyon leap into a car, the woman who'd rescued him, and Lacey follow. Ryou didn't care that there were people who probably shouldn't be seeing his fury, or Byakuen- who, after seeing the flames, had leaped out of the truck. 

"C'mon, Ryou! We'll never catch them," Shin sighed, staring after the three figures in sorrow. 

Ryou also stared, feeling Byakuen nuzzle his hand. "At least we know why we haven't found him," he said numbly. 

"He'll pay. He will pay," Shuu growled, his hands clenched into fists. 

"Touma. We have to focus on the goal. We will find him, even if it takes us a lifetime. His armor will keep him alive, and if he survived five months sane, he can survive until we find him. We'll deal with those three idiots when we see them again." 

Ryou nodded. "Yeah. C'mon, lets go before the reporters arrive." 

They all nodded, slowly climbing into the truck, thinking of Touma. 

"We will find him, right?" Shin said in a small voice, turning to look at them. 

Shuu wrapped his arms around him, tucking the auburn head under his chin. "Yeah, we will." 

"But will we find him in time?" 

None of them answered Shin's last question as they drove out of the diner. They were all too afraid of the answer themselves.   



End file.
